Midnight Runner
by mamapranayama
Summary: For several long seconds he laid on the ground, his breathing coming in short, uneven and wheezing gasps. He had to get up – had to move. He didn't have time to stop – even if he might already be too late for the injured man he had left behind. He had to keep running ...
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: Despite my untold wealth and riches, I don't own Merlin. _**

**_A/N: so, I did it again. I went and wrote another Merlin story when I still have an unfinished story that needs my attention more. But I just couldn't help it ... I really wanted to write something that was angsty, whumpy, and had some good ol' BAMF! Merlin and Arthur. FYI: this is set while Arthur is regent and Lancelot is still alive. It doesn't have any slash, but there is some definite bromance between Merlin and Arthur. It is all written and clocks in at about 12,000 words in total. It will be posted in three parts, but I'm editing as I go along, so I won't be posting it all at once, but rather over the course of the next few days._**

**_I hope you like it and don't be afraid to leave a review. Whether it be good or bad, I love hearing what you think._**

**_ -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-_**

**Midnight Runner**

**-0-0-0- Part One -0-0-0-**

_Run!_

It was his only thought.

Left foot, right foot … keep going … keep breathing … ignore the pain.

His feet beat an unsteady rhythm, faltering when his burning lungs failed to give him enough air for his over-taxed heart and lead-filled legs. Sweat mixed with blood dripped and stung his eyes, but he paid neither any attention.

He stumbled over a root and fell headlong onto the ground, arms too slow to catch his body. Pain arced through his flank and head, causing his sight to explode into a burst of colors that blinded him. Rolling, he squeezed his eyes shut; tears leaking out from the corners as a strangled cry forced its way out, echoing through the darkened woods. He dug the heel of his hand to the wound that he had carried for miles, as if he could force the agony away the harder he pushed against it. Fresh blood seeped between his fingers and nothing he did could slow it down.

For several long seconds he laid on the ground, his breathing coming in short, uneven and wheezing gasps. He had to get up – had to move. He didn't have time to stop – even if he might already be too late for the injured man he had left behind.

No … no … no. He wouldn't believe that … he could't …

He refused to accept anything other than making it home and finding help for his friend.

There was no room for him to fail.

He needed to run.

Forcing his hand away from his wound, he gripped the forest floor, leaves sticking to the vital fluid coating his fingers as he pushed his upper body up. His arms shook, muscles nearing the limits of their endurance. The pain was nearly unbearable, but he didn't stop, he focused only getting off the ground.

With a growl of pure desperation and determination, he came to his knees and then grabbed the nearest tree, using it to hoist himself to his feet. He wavered, vision fuzzing in and out, nearly doubling over as his pierced side flared white-hot like a molten piece of iron being twisted into his flesh. He sucked in air greedily until the pain receded to bearable levels once again and he was able to stand without feeling like he was going to fall over.

He was so very tired and the path home that stretched out before him seemed to go on forever through the blackened woods. He had no idea how far he had come and how many miles he had left to go, but he knew there was only one way he would make it: one step at a time.

He set his eyes forwards with new determination and took a step, and then another.

With one hand attached to his side, he pressed on, striding faster with each footfall.

His pace was considerably slower since his fall and his exhausted muscles struggled to keep him upright, but eventually, the most blessed sight came into view as he left the cover of the forest. Just over the next hill stood Camelot, its gleaming towers and high walls clearly visible even in the dim light.

His relief at nearly being home and finding help for his friend was so strong that his vision momentarily blackened and he swayed dizzily. He ignored the warning signs that his body was at a breaking point and demanded it to keep moving. He would not allow the wheezing breaths, the shaking, the chills, the fuzzy vision, nor the roiling nausea and pain to stop him.

His thoughts, however, were becoming less and less coherent with each step he took and by the time he was noticed by the guards at the gate, he was barely aware of what he was doing anymore. Vaguely, he heard the sound of feet running, of clanging armour, and the shouts of men. He didn't even realize he had dropped to his knees until several pairs of hands hauled him up from under his shoulders.

He forced his heavy head up and looked into the eyes of the nearest man. "Gaius …" he panted, his tongue too thick to work correctly and his eyes threatening to close, "need him –"

"Of course, Sire." The guard responded immediately, "We're taking you to him right now."

He shook his head, the world dimming and becoming more distant. He was just so exhausted. "No … Merlin … he's – "

Arthur never finished his sentence, he had already been swept away into a deep well of nothingness.

**-O-O-O- **

Though he didn't show it externally, Gaius was a mess of tangled nerves and his gut with aching with anxiety.

It had been three days since Arthur went on patrol with Sirs Kay and Bors, taking Merlin along with them and two days since the prince-regent returned horseless, injured, and alone. And now, it had only been a few hours since Gaius had been informed that another patrol had discovered the bodies of the knights, but there was still no sign of Merlin or where he might have gone.

Arthur still had yet to wake up and explain what happened to him, his knights, and his manservant, though Gaius hadn't expected it of him yet. Arthur had survived quite an ordeal and the physician could plainly see from the dehydration and broken blisters on the soles of his feet that he must have run for many miles even injured as he was.

Thankfully, the prince would recover fully. The slash wound on Arthur's left side was a clean cut and was easy to sew back together and his blood loss, though substantial, was not as bad as he initially feared. The prince also had a raised lump and a cut on his scalp that spoke of a concussion, though it was probably rather mild given his pupil's reaction the light. All in all, Arthur was lucky to have made it back to the gates of Camelot before passing out. His continued unconsciousness was due more to the fact that he had pushed his body to the limits of endurance and was now making up for all of the trauma it had been put through.

But now, as the prince was resting comfortably in his chambers and the danger had passed, Gaius couldn't help but wish that the boy would wake up already. He needed to know what had become of Merlin. Was he still out there somewhere? Was he injured as well? Was he even alive?

Gaius could barely stand the thought of Merlin not coming home again. The man had never had any children, but since Merlin walked into his life, he couldn't think of him as anything but his own son. And he knew that the boy had come to find a father-figure in Gaius as well. He had never really realized just how empty and lonely his life had been before Merlin, but now - he couldn't imagine his life without him being worthwhile. They were a family in every way but blood and he was on pins and needles waiting to know what had happened to his adopted son.

To ease his restlessness and calm his anxiety, Gaius kept the prince within the physician's chambers so he could keep a close eye on him and be there for him the moment he woke up. In the meantime, as Arthur slept, Gaius produced enough batches of sleeping drafts, pain relievers, fever reducers, and stomach tonics to last the next few months. It didn't help. In fact, it only made things worse for when he ran out of valerian for his sleeping drafts, he had almost automatically thought to ask Merlin to collect more before he remembered his absence and possible fate.

Working on close to 48 hours with no sleep, Gaius sank into the chair beside Arthur's side and rubbed a hand down his wrinkled and weary face, sighing heavily with exhaustion. He closed his eyes, thinking that he would only rest his eyes and his troubled soul for just a moment when his head dipped and sleep claimed him almost instantly.

Gaius' mind slipped into a dream, but it soon became a terrible nightmare. He saw people living in fear. Neighbor turned on neighbor – sons and daughters accused their parents of using magic and it seemed the dungeons, the chopping block, the gallows, and the pyres were never empty. People were rounded up, whole families killed over even the slightest suggestion that one of their members had magic. Eventually, even Gaius stood on a pyre, Arthur glaring across the courtyard at him with cold, dark eyes as he gave the order to light the wood. He could smell the smoke searing into his nostrils, feel the heat climb up his legs …

He gasped, eyes flung open wide as a hand touched his knee. For several seconds he floundered, trying to come back to full consciousness and chase the remnants of the dream away and calm the erratic pounding of his heart.

"Gaius … are you alright?" Gaius' eyes landed on Arthur, who was awake and gazing at him with concern. His mind flashed for a moment to the image of Arthur's cold, angry eyes in his nightmare, but in the next breath, he relaxed, seeing the prince for who he was now – a man of compassion and integrity. He was so unlike the man in his dream that he was more than relieved to see him conscious once again.

Gaius nodded quickly and swallowed, "Yes, Sire … I'm afraid I was just dreaming."

"Looked like a nightmare to me. What was it about?" Arthur asked, his voice hoarse as he pulled his hand away from the old man's knee.

"Nothing important, sire. How are you feeling?" Gaius moved to quickly change the subject, not wanting to think about his dream any longer. He refused to believe that anything remotely like that nightmare would ever come to pass. Merlin was destined to never let that happen. He would be found and he would be there to see Arthur become the king he was meant to be.

Arthur closed his eyes briefly, groaning and rubbing his temples. Still weak and pale, Arthur's hands shook slightly as he mumbled a reply, "Honestly, Gaius … I feel awful. What happened?"

Seeing that the prince clearly had a headache and was no doubt feeling the effects of his injuries and blood loss, Gaius reached for a pain tonic, making sure to use the one that didn't cause added drowsiness. He needed to prince to stay awake a while longer and tell him what had become of Merlin, praying that the prince could remember and that he hadn't suffered any memory loss.

"I was hoping you could tell me, Sire." Gaius began, gently cupping the back of Arthur's head and lifting it enough for the prince to take the medicine. Arthur swallowed the liquid and pulled a disgusted face, reminding Gaius of the young boy he had once been and how vocal he had been about the taste of the physician's remedies. Again, he laid Arthur's head back on the pillow, "The guards brought you to me two nights ago, injured, bleeding and unconscious. You were also alone with no horse, and appeared to have run all the way to Camelot."

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to remember, "Alone? No … I was with Bors and Kay and Mer-" The prince's eyes shot open, panic taking over his features.

"I've got to get out of here – he's hurt." Arthur babbled rapidly. Nearing hyperventilation, he tried to sit as if wanting to climb out of bed and leave at once.

Gaius pushed against the young man's shoulders, lowering him back into the bed. "Sire, calm down and lie back, you will only pull your stitches."

"No! Merlin needs help! He's still out there. I've got to go back for him."

"Merlin?" Gaius asked, his expression warring between hopefulness and fear. "You know where he is?"

Arthur nodded and looked at Gaius pleadingly with eyes reddening at the corners, on the verge of creating tears. Gaius wasn't sure he had ever seen the prince so rattled before and it was with unmistakable self-contempt and guilt that he confessed, "I'm so sorry, Gaius … I - I left him behind."

_**To be Continued ...**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of the reviews, alerts, and faves! I really do appreciate the feedback and I hope you all will like this next part. Finally ... there be Merlin in this chapter! FYI - I'm editing this myself, so if you see a mistake, please don't hesitate to let me know.**

**-O-O-O- Part Two -O-O-O-**

Arthur gulped down the hard, burning knot in his throat. Seeing the worry and fatigue that clearly plagued Gaius over what had become of his ward was not unexpected, but what he hadn't counted on was his own feelings of guilt for leaving Merlin behind, alone, and in such pain.

His physical injuries and fatigue notwithstanding, Arthur felt terrible, even if he had had no other choice.

"I couldn't take him back with me. He couldn't walk and our horses were gone. Kay and Bors ... they -" Arthur shook his head sadly, thinking of how pointless their deaths had been. Both men had been good and faithful knights and he would make certain that their ultimate sacrifices were not forgotten.

Gaius nodded sadly in understanding, "I know. Their bodies and those of whom we can only assume were your attackers were found near the road to Fenwick, but Merlin – "

"Is hidden. Only I can find him."

Once again, Arthur was pushing himself up.

"Sire … I must insist that you stay in bed. Sir Leon. Lancelot and the other knights can find him."

This time Arthur would not allow Gaius to stop him. "I can't stay here, Gaius."

"You could just describe where he is –"

"No … I can't." Arthur stated firmly, his eyes meeting the old physicians and brokering no arguments. "I promised _I_ would come back for him." He clutched his sore side as he rose from the bed with grim determination and stood, fighting the lightheadedness that tried to bring him down. "I will not go back on my word."

Equally as stubborn, Gaius folded his arms over his chest, "If you must go, then so will I."

The prince nodded, "I was hoping you would. On the way, I'll tell you everything that happened."

**-O-O-O-**

He wished the birds would shut up already.

Chirping merrily, they had no idea how much pain their songs and whistles caused his throbbing headache to shoot up notch. It was beginning to akin to having a sword driven through one ear and out the other.

Merlin turned his head, dizzy and only able to partially open his eyes. There was just enough light for him make out the small mouth of the cave he lay in. Sunshine was peeking in through the opening and the branches that covered it, but its warm rays could do nothing to warm him within his dark hiding spot and his shivered violently. His breath came out as a white mist as the rock beneath his back sucked away what little remaining heat he had left. The small fire he had managed to conjure before he passed out again had gone out and he raised a hand bring it back to life. His magic, however, felt about as weak as the rest of his body and only a tiny flame spurted to life and then quickly died without fresh wood to fuel it.

Merlin groaned and closed his eyes, too tired to try and start the fire again.

He was thirsty as well, but his water had long ago run out. He wished more than anything that he could just get up and walk out of the cave and find the nearest stream so he could slake his thirst. He'd even take one of Gaius' vile tasting concoctions just to have something to drink. But even the slightest movement caused grievous pain from the bottom of his toes straight up through his back. There would be no walking out of this.

He had already tried just about every healing spell he could think of, but thinking was part of his problem. Smashing his head on a rock during his tumble not only caused him a blinding headache, but his mind was a mess and coherent thoughts were hard to come by. He could hardly remember all the words to any of the spells and most of the time he just made things worse when he messed them up.

Merlin felt exhaustion pulling at him once more and he knew wouldn't be able to stay awake for much longer. His periods of wakefulness were becoming fewer and farther between as time seemed to jump from morning to night was increasing rapidity. Sometimes he would wake, forgetting how he got there and it would take several minutes or sometimes what felt like hours before he could clearly recall the events that led to him lying in the cold, dark cave. Usually, by that time, the pain and exhaustion would cause him to pass out once again and the cycle would start all over.

He wasn't even sure of how long he had been there anymore. It could have been days – maybe even a week ... he just didn't know. One thing he did know was that he wasn't sure of how much more of the claustrophobic walls of the cave he could stand anymore. He was sick of this place and he just wanted to go home.

He really hoped Arthur would come back soon. It wasn't just that he hoped that his friend would come to his rescue, but he was worried about him and wanted to see that he was alright. Though the prince had tried to hide his injury, Merlin, even semi-conscious at the time, knew he was in rough shape even before left to go back to Camelot on foot. And he had been gone for so long - there was no telling what could have happened to him in that time. He could have passed out where no one could find him or he could have been attacked by any of the numerous creatures lurking in the woods.

And then there were the bandits or whoever they really were. Merlin never found out if they attacked simply because the opportunity was presented to them or because they were ordered to by someone else like Morgana or any other of the numerous enemies that plagued Arthur and Camelot. What he did know was that they were no ordinary robbers. That became quite clear the moment they revealed their magic and ambushed their patrol with a great wall of flames that exploded in the middle of the road.

Poor Sir Bors had been in the lead when it happened. He and his horse had been caught in the flames and Merlin could still hear the echoes of their screams and the smell their searing flesh in his head ...

_Arthur shouted for his knight, but it was far too late for anyone to help him and then pandemonium broke out as battle cries erupted from the forest surrounding them. Men seemed to come from nowhere as they came running with swords in hand and killing on their minds. Arthur, Sir Kay, and Merlin were off of their horses in a heartbeat, instantly caught in the fray. Arthur, ever the formidable warrior, slashed and hacked at the enemy, taking out men to his left while Kay fought those to the right. The sounds of metal striking metal, of flesh being cut, of horses screaming in terror as they ran away, and the smell of iron-rich blood being spilt filled the forest._

_ Merlin also had a sword, but it may have been a wet noodle for all the good it was doing him. More than once he had to resort to using magic; tripping a man here, making a sword too hot to handle there – he even managed to turn one man's sword into a spoon at one point though he wasn't exactly sure how. Arthur and Kay were too busy fighting to notice his blatant use of magic at least, but it became clear that there were too many of their attackers for just the three of them to fend off for much longer. Merlin had to think of something._

_ And then Merlin saw him; a greasy-haired, wiry man standing off to the side, avoiding the fight. His eyes flashed gold for a brief moment and the flames shot up higher nearest to Sir Kay and Arthur. Merlin tried to warn them, but he was too late. Sir Kay was struck by the fire and run-through by an enemy sword while Arthur was blown back, landing on his back, stunned and too slow to react to the bandit's sword that swung his way. Arthur was death a glancing blow to his side as he rolled at just the last moment, but the pommel of another attacker's sword striking him across the side of his head caused the prince to fall to the ground, instantly unconscious. _

_Merlin roared and his magic took over, flooding his body and soul. He flung his arms out as his eyes lit with golden flames and every man that dared to come close to his master was thrown ten feet into the air. He blasted one after the other until he was at Arthur's side. Soon, none would come near him and most of the men ran after that. Seeing the power and righteous fury in Merlin's blazing eyes, had caused them all to sense their mortal peril ... all except for the other sorcerer._

_Livid, Merlin stood slowly, blocking Arthur's unconscious body with his own, ready to strike with his full power if need be. He glared at the sorcerer "Leave now!" Merlin shouted, "And I may let you live!"_

_Undeterred, the other man scoffed and pointed a finger accusingly._

_"You have magic!" The sorcerer spoke, sneering disdainfully. "Why do you defend this scum? He is the Prince of Camelot! He and his father have killed those with magic with impunity for the past 25 years and yet you would protect him? Why would betray your kind like that?" _

_"I betray no one!" Merlin spat in return, the words spilling out easily, undeterred. Even if Arthur woke to hear him, he wasn't afraid - he was too angry to be afraid. "I serve and protect Arthur because he is not like his father. He's a good man and will be a great king and he's our best chance at bringing peace and magic back to our land. It is you who are the one betraying us all, using magic to kill. It is because of men like you that magic is outlawed -"_

_"_**_Torri ei goesau_**_!"__ The sorcerer shouted, his dark eyes furiously glowing._

_Merlin felt something give within both of his legs then heard the sickening snaps that followed. Immediately he fell to the ground as white-hot, searing agony engulfed him and he cried out until he had no air left. He writhed, arching his back, unable to escape the pain of his now hideously broken legs._

_"Try to protect your prince now, traitor!" The sorcerer gloated, standing over Merlin with a look of pure hatred. He turned away from the servant and walked deliberately over to the unconscious and defenseless prince. He bent down and picked up Arthur's sword from his hand, raising it above his head, aiming it for Arthur's heart._

_Merlin felt his blood run cold and fury overcame his pain, blinding him to all else. He __never really understood the phrase 'he saw red' when describing someone who had gone crazy with rage. He still didn't. Instead he saw gold - pure, flaming gold. It erupted from his eyes with unrestrained, desperate and all-consuming wrath, rabidly seeking the destruction of the one who would dare to try and kill his prince - his friend. _

_"**NO!**" He raged, emitting a long, guttural roar. Magic exploded from every cell of his body as it went wild, sweeping the entire area with a shockwave that shook the ground and bent the trees. It knocked the sorcerer off of his feet and tossed him through the air like a piece of paper in the wind. His head whipped so violently that his neck snapped and he was dead before he landed._

_Unfortunately, the laws of inertia could not be broken even by the power Merlin unleashed and he flew backwards, his head exploding in white-hot agony when it encountered a large rock with a resounding crack. _

_Everything went dark after that._

_When Merlin opened his eyes again, he was lying in the cave with a blurry, unfocused Arthur bending over him, saying he was sorry for what he had to do. He was too confused and in too much pain to understand what the prince meant. Something earthy tasting and hard was placed in his mouth and he wondered absently what was happening until he felt a hand on his foot followed by a sharp, forceful tug on his leg and horrid sounds of bone being set back in place._

_Merlin screamed._

_ He must have passed out because his next conscious action was to pry open his eyes again. This time thankfully, the pain in his legs had dulled some, but that only made the feeling of having a spike driven through his head all the more pronounced and he wasn't sure which was worse. Weakly, a trembling hand sought out the source of his headache and when his fingers encountered a wet, sticky lump on the back of his head, he wasn't at all surprised._

_"Don't touch it, idiot. I finally got it to stop bleeding." Merlin looked down the length of his body to see the prince glaring at him with more worry than anger. He was relieved to see Arthur awake and apparently doing well enough to be aiding him._

_Arthur must have set his other leg while he under as he was down by Merlin's feet, splinting his right leg with tree branches and strips of cloth whilst his left looked to have already been stabilized. Merlin had a random thought about remembering to thank Gaius for teaching all of the knights a few things about treating injuries out in the field. It looked like Arthur was actually doing everything correctly – that is until he accidentally bumped Merlin's leg, sending a sharp, renewed wave of pain up his leg._

_Merlin groaned, trying not to cry out and Arthur looked up apologetically. "Gods … sorry. I'm not exactly an expert at this." _

_"I'm okay." He mumbled, his words coming out slow and slurred, the throbbing in his head making it difficult to raise his voice and louder than a whisper. "Where are we?" _

_"A cave. I thought it best to stay here for the time being while I got you fixed up. If those bastards are still out there, they won't find us in here."_

_Merlin studied the prince through hooded eyes. He still had a trickle of blood coming from a small wound over his eyebrow and moved stiffly as if in pain. Merlin then noted the spot of red seeping through the side of Arthur's chainmail and he remembered the blow the prince had received during the battle._

_"You're hurt." He pointed out. _

_"It's nothing." Arthur replied shortly without looking up as he got back to work securing Merlin's leg in the splint. "Just a scratch."_

_"You're a terrible liar." Merlin muttered._

_"Not as bad a you, Mr. 'I'm-okay-even-with-two-broken-legs-and-a-bashed-i n-head'. How did this happen anyway? When I woke up everyone was either dead or gone and you were lying there bleeding ... for a second there I thought you were -" Arthur ran a hand through his hair as he fought for composure._

_"There was a sorcerer … he did this." Merlin confessed. "He used some kind of spell and broke my legs." Merlin closed his eyes and sighed. Here was another instance of sorcery being used for ill gain to bolster the prince's perception of it being evil. He couldn't very well tell Arthur that he just happened to stumble and break both of his legs in the exact same places, so he had to tell him the truth – at least partially. _

_"How was it that he didn't kill us then?"_

_"I threw my knife and killed him." He certainly wasn't going to say anything about killing the other man with magic. And Arthur said he wasn't good at lying – ha! "I don't really remember what happened after that."_

_Arthur snorted, "You threw a knife? And didn't miss? What I would have given to see that miracle."_

_The prince finished tying the final knot on Merlin's splint and then leaned back against the wall of the cave with a heavy sigh, holding his injured side._

_Merlin asked the question neither one of them really wanted to address, "We're in trouble aren't we?"_

_Arthur's shoulders slumped wearily. "The horses are gone along with all of our supplies. We have no food and only this one water skin." He held up their one meager supply of water. "We can't hold out here for long, but there's no way you can walk on those legs and I can't build a stretcher without any supplies." Arthur growled, "Arrrr … this is so damned frustrating."_

_"You should go and -" Merlin suggested, his words trailing off and eyes drooping as a wave of sleepiness overcame him. He meant to shut his eyes for just a moment and organize his muddied thoughts, but in the next moment, he felt a hand gently slapping his face._

_"Merlin … Merlin … wake up!"_

_"Wha?" Merlin asked, confused. Why was Arthur telling him to wake up? He only closed his eyes for a second._

_"You passed out mid-sentence."_

_"Did not, prat." Merlin weakly mumbled in defense. _

_"You did too and you need help – more than I can give you, I'm afraid. We need Gaius. But I can't leave you here alone."_

_"Yes you can." _

_"No."_

_"Yes."_

_"Merlin, don't be stupid. I'll just carry you back. I got you here, didn't I?"_

_"You can't carry me, Arthur. It's too far." Merlin argued. "And I know you're hurt too. You might be able to walk back alone, but if you try to take me as well, you'll just injure yourself worse. And if those men that attacked us are still out there, we'd be an easy target with me slowing you down. You'd be safer on your own."_

_Arthur shook his head, "Merlin –"_

_"Go, Arthur. I'll be fine. I'll just wait here."_

_For several moments, the prince mulled over his decision before finally seeming to come to an agreement with himself, "Alright. I'll go back, but you must promise me you won't move from this spot and keep as quiet as possible. Don't let anyone know you are here in case those men are still out there and looking for a little payback."_

_Merlin rolled his eyes, pointing to his legs. "Not going anywhere." _

_"Alright. But before I leave, I'll get a fire going for you and refill this water." Arthur stood and stooped, his back touching the low ceiling of the little cave. Grunting painfully, he practically had to crawl out of the small mouth of the cave to get out, returning a few minutes later with an armful of wood which he used to start a small fire a few feet away from Merlin. It made the cave somewhat smoky, but the young servant was grateful for the warmth. Arthur laid the extra sticks within Merlin's reach so he could keep feeding the flames when he needed to and handed him the waterskin. _

_"I'm afraid this is all of the water I could squeeze into this thing. You'll have to be careful and conserve it. But I'll try not to be gone long - hopefully, a day at most."_

_Merlin nodded, feeling a little odd at having the prince doing so much for him. It was supposed to be the other way around. "I swear, I'll be fine."_

_"I promise I'll be back." Arthur stated, briefly patting Merlin on the shoulder, his eyes giving away his trepidation and reluctance to leave Merlin in such a vulnerable state. _

_"Be careful, Arthur." Merlin responded, doing his best not show any fear at being left behind. He gave the prince a lopsided grin. "I won't be there to protect your backside, so try not get yourself killed on the way back, okay?"_

_"Right … what have you ever protected me from? Dirty socks?" Arthur scoffed, also wearing a grin to mask the concern he felt for his servant._

_They weren't going to say good-bye – all that emotional stuff was just too much for either one of them to acknowledge, but Merlin tried to convey the faith he had in Arthur with his eyes and just how much he completely trusted him to return. Silently, they communicated; each vowing wordlessly to keep their promises. _

Soon Arthur was gone and Merlin was alone in the dark with nothing to do but wait and worry. It felt like an eternity since he last saw the prince and with each hour that passed, his anxiety rose another degree.

Though the men that had attacked them had all either been killed or vanished into the forest, he feared that they might have had another go at the weakened prince. And without Merlin there to protect him, he didn't even want to think of what could have happened. He could only pray that wasn't the case and he had to believe that Arthur made it home to Gaius and was safe now. That was all that really mattered.

However, if the pratty prince did decide to come back and rescue him soon, he certainly wouldn't complain.

But for now, all he could do was hold onto hope.

And perhaps pass out once again.

To Be Continued ...


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks again for reading and for all of the reviews! I know I said this was going to be three parts, but in order get this edited in a timely manner and get something posted for you today, I broke up the final chapter into 2 parts. I hope you all don't mind, but it saves my sanity a little to edit this way so I don't feel so overwhelmed or accidentally skip over parts. I will however, try to get the next part out later today.**_

**-O-O-O- Part Three -O-O-O-**

"… and that was pretty much it." Arthur finished telling his tale to Gaius as they traveled down the road, sitting next to each other upon the bench of the small cart he had ordered from the stable hands. They traveled along with Gwaine riding beside the cart. The knight had demanded to come along the moment he learned where the prince and the physician were going and of all of his knights, Arthur knew he was the most worried for Merlin. They had a close friendship that Arthur sometimes envied, but Arthur was the regent of Camelot and he couldn't just hang out at the tavern, getting sloppy drunk with his men. He had to appear to be the strong, sober leader and not his knights' friend, no matter how much he wanted it.

Arthur held onto the reins of the horses pulling the cart with a tight grip, annoyed at how slow they had to go in order to navigate the bumpy road with the wooden wheels. He would have preferred the speed of taking his own horse, but with Merlin injured he needed something to carry the servant back home in that wouldn't hurt him further.

Gaius had been quiet (and surprisingly, Gwaine had been too) as Arthur continued, "I didn't want to, but I had to leave him behind. He hit his head pretty hard and he couldn't seem to focus on anything. He had a hard time staying awake, so I feared there wasn't much time. I ran all of the way back. I can't believe I was unconscious for so long, God knows what could have happened since then. He barely had enough water for one day let alone three." He berated himself.

Gwaine was clearly furious at the situation and the grinding of his teeth could almost be heard over the hooves of the horses.

"You shouldn't feel any remorse, Arthur. You did what you needed to do. No one could have asked more from you and I'm certain Merlin would agree." Gaius absolved the prince, trying to make him see how none of this was his fault, but Arthur couldn't stop feeling guilty for abandoning his servant for so long. Worse yet, he feared that his delayed return meant that Merlin's condition had deteriorated. He was afraid almost of what he would find in that cave when he got back to it.

"That goes for me too, Princess." Gwaine added, a little cheekily just to lighten the mood a little even though he did so somewhat reluctantly. "I don't like that you left him all by himself, but what else were you supposed to do? I just wish you would have taken me on this patrol with you in the first place. I would have kept you both safe."

Though he knew that Gwaine and Gaius meant well in trying to take some of the blame off his shoulders, he just didn't think he could forgive himself if Merlin wasn't okay when they got to him.

Logically, Arthur knew he shouldn't feel this way. If his father was still in his right mind, he would have had a fit if he found out that he, the crowned prince, was going after one man – especially one that was only a servant. But Merlin was different. He wasn't just his manservant anymore and he hadn't been for a long time. Though he had once told Merlin that they couldn't be friends because of their difference in rank and station, the boy had always found a way to ignore whatever Arthur said. And over the years, he had proven not only to be loyal and brave, but he had managed to find a way to become one of Arthur's only true friends. Despite the fact that Arthur was prince and heir-apparent to Camelot and Merlin nothing more than a simple peasant and servant, the boy blatantly ignored the notion that one man was superior to another solely because of he was a noble. This was what he never knew he needed in a friend before he met Merlin.

Other noblemen might have been appalled at Merlin's apparent lack of attention to propriety and indeed some of them looked down on him for having any sort of casual relationship with the prince. But Arthur didn't really care what those others with wealth and power had anymore. No one before had challenged him the way his servant had – calling him out on his faults, offering support and advice when he needed it (sometimes he wasn't such an idiot), and following him wherever he went. Every person whom Arthur had considered a friend before Merlin had really only be sycophants who told the prince only what they thought he wanted to hear and none of them every truly let their true feelings for Arthur be voiced. Growing up, the prince believed that that was how friends were supposed to behave, that they were supposed to bow to him and suck up to him and tell him he was perfect.

Then Merlin came and tossed all of those notions away, calling him a prat the very first day they met. At first, this irritated and inflamed Arthur (sometimes it still did), but eventually, he came to expect it and even appreciate Merlin's honesty and in him he found someone he could completely be himself around. He could tease his servant and get just as good a licking back in return. He could joke and Merlin wouldn't be afraid to tell him he wasn't funny. Somewhere along the way, the lines between servant and master had become blurred and Arthur couldn't imagine it being any other way.

Arthur snapped out of his thoughts when he encountered a fallen tree that he recognized. "We're not far now." He informed Gaius and Gwaine.

They were out farther from the city than he first thought; it had to be at least ten to twelve miles from the main gate where he had collapsed. Had he really run that whole way? Granted, his memory was fuzzy and he couldn't recall his entire journey from the cave to home, but he was surprised that he had managed such a feat.

Soon they came upon the portion of the road where the bandits had attacked. The bodies were already gone; the bandits burned by the patrol that had come by whist Sirs Bors and Kay were taken back to Camelot for a proper burial. But the land was still scarred with scorch marks and in many places, blood stained the gravel and surrounding plants.

"This is it." Arthur said, pulling on the reins to stop the horses. He jumped down from the wagon and walked around to the other side, helping the older man down while Gwaine tied his horse to a tree. "We'll have to walk the rest of the way. The cave is a little bit further into the woods. It's too far to be seen from the road and I covered it with some branches to hide it further, so I'm not surprised the patrol had no idea he was out here."

Arthur blazed a trail through the woods with Gaius following close behind, clutching his medical bag and Gwaine taking up the rear, keeping a close eye out for anything that might come their way. Between the three of them, the tension built the further into the forest they went. Though they all kept their faces stoic and impassive, all of them were anxious to get to Merlin. At last, Arthur came to the bottom of the small cliff where the cave was hidden and he breathed deep in relief.

It was really only by chance that he had found this spot and from the looks of it, it had remained untouched since his departure.

Again, his mind flashed back to how he had come to leave his servant and friend here. After the battle with the bandits, he had woken in the road, his head and injured side throbbing, his mind too fuzzy-headed and confused to really comprehend what had happened.

_Arthur saw his sword lying within reach and he pulled it towards him, sheathing it in his belt and feeling much more safe and confident with the cold steel on his person. He still couldn't remember much of the exact details, but when he had been struck during the melee, he thought for certain that he was going to die. And looking about now, seeing bodies strewn about while little fires continued to lap lazily in the grass beside the road, he wondered how it was that he had survived at all._

_ Perhaps they had thought him dead and then just decided to steal their horses and leave? He didn't know and his head hurt too much for him ponder it for too long before he caught sight of a familiar mop of black hair only a foot or two away from him._

_"Merlin …" He grunted painfully, rolling onto his hands and knees and then crawling over to his servant. The boy was impossibly pale and grey, his face turned to the side while under his head Arthur could see a small pool of blood collecting around a large stone. At first, Arthur thought the worst, but as he got closer, he could see the rise and fall of his friend's chest and he heaved a sigh of relief. Sitting on his knees, he leaned over the lanky young man and patted his face, "Merlin ... wake up. We need to get out of here."_

_Merlin made no signs of stirring. Arthur took his face in between his hands, "C'mon … open your eyes."_

_Again there was no reaction. _

_Arthur was never one to panic, but his heart was pounding nonetheless, especially as his eyes traveled down the length of Merlin's body and stopped cold at the sight of his legs. Clearly broken, both feet angled out from each other with sickening abnormality. Arthur swore and ran a hand through his hair, gripping it furiously. He had no idea how his servant could have been injured like this and mind flashed through different scenarios, but he realized he didn't have the luxury of time to figure it all out. They couldn't remain out there in the middle of the road injured and defenseless as they were and Arthur needed to get them both someplace safe._

_Arthur looked about for any supplies they would need, seeing only a discarded weapons and a single waterskin that must have fallen during the ambush. He ignored the weapons and grabbed the skin, he wouldn't need the swords as much as the water, he figured._

_Maneuvering Merlin hadn't been easy. Arthur's whole body screamed at him as he pulled his servant up to lie against his shoulder. And as he braced the younger man and made an attempt to stand and lift him up along with him, the wound to his side stabbed him with fire. Fighting against the black spots forming before his eyes and the pain that blossomed within, Arthur refused the give in and forced his way to his feet with Merlin over his shoulder._

_Arthur gripped Merlin's thighs and even unconscious, the boy emitted a pitiful sound that tore at Arthur's heart. "I'm sorry." Was all he could say as he panted and sought balance, taking a step towards the woods to his right. He had no idea where he was going as he stumbled through the thick forest, bearing the weight of his manservant; all he could focus on was getting away from the road in case the bandits returned to finish them off. Finding some kind of cover or shelter where he and Merlin could hide and rest while the prince sorted out their situation was his only priority._

_Each step was arduous, not only for Arthur, but for Merlin too, who was moaning behind his back. Arthur could feel the other boy trembling as he held on to him while his own muscles strained and worked to keep them both upright. He walked for what felt like miles, but in reality must have been less than a kilometer and just as he thought he could go no further, he spied a rocky cliff face and the dark opening to a small cave mostly obscured by trees._

_Feeling as if this was some sort of sign from the Gods, Arthur used the rest of his strength to reach the cave. The mouth of the cave was so low that Arthur had to set Merlin on the ground first and then pull him inside. Again he found himself apologizing to his servant as the injured boy cried out senselessly until finally, they were both safely within the shelter._

_Arthur almost immediately collapsed and blacked out. _

_When he woke again, it was to the sounds of moaning. Arthur snapped up, seeing that Merlin was lying next to him, eyes squeezed shut and his deathly pale face deeply lined in pain. Arthur shook the cobwebs out of his head and went to Merlin's side. While Arthur was no physician, he had tended to wounds in battle before and had learned a few things while watching Gaius tend to knights who had been injured. The first thing he knew Gaius would do would be to cut away Merlin's pant legs so he could see what kind of injury he was up against. Pulling out the dagger he kept within his boot, Arthur used that to cut Merlin's pants from their hems up to his thighs. He then gently tried to remove Merlin's boots, wincing whenever the poor boy groaned and shivered as he pulled them off. _

_Arthur grimaced at what he saw. Merlin's legs bent unnaturally between his ankles and knees at practically the same spot on each leg. Below the breaks, his feet were swollen, red and puffy. He knew that if he didn't so something for Merlin's legs soon, then there was the possibility that the boy may never be able to walk again._

_With a deep dread, Arthur realized that he was going to have to set the bones._

_There was only one time before when Arthur had needed to do this and that had been years ago when he had been but a boy of sixteen and on one of his first patrols as a knight. One of the other men's horses had been spooked by a snake and thrown him, causing him to break his arm when he landed. They had been many miles from Camelot and the knight's arm and hand had swelled so much that it looked as if it might burst so he knew something needed to be done for him quickly. Sir Bedevere, and older knight who had been in charge of Arthur's training since he was a little boy, saw this as an opportunity for the young prince to learn a few things about treating injuries in the field and talked him through how to go about setting the bone. Arthur had been rightly scared and hesitant, but with Sir Bedevere's calm voice guiding him, he was able to pull the bone back into place and save the knight's arm._

_Arthur thought back on that experience. Setting an arm was one thing and that had been hard enough, but Merlin had two broken legs and no one to talk him through. The possibility that he would make things worse was daunting, but he just couldn't let Merlin languish in pain or face a life where he was left lame._

_Arthur looked back at Merlin's face. His servant's glassy eyes had opened slightly and Arthur was worried and annoyed at the same time that he would choose now of all times to wake up. Hesitant to cause Merlin any pain while he was somewhat alert, Arthur instead untied the neckerchief Merlin wore and used it to bandage the bleeding lump on the back of his head._

_"Ar –Arthur …" He mumbled semi-coherently, looking about dazedly. "Where …?"_

_"We're safe." Arthur assured him, clasping his shoulder, "But I have to do something about your legs."_

_Merlin's eyes blinked lazily and uncomprehending as he muttered something unintelligible. Arthur took this as a sign that the servant was close to passing out again and felt the need to apologize to Merlin for the pain he was going to cause him. "I'm sorry, Merlin." was the best he could voice without choking on the hard lump in his throat. He grabbed a stick that was lying nearby and snapped it in half, gently opening Merlin's mouth, "Just bite down on this." _

_The other young man didn't seem to understand him until Arthur shored up his resolve and got to work setting the right leg first. Arthur winced as he pulled and forced the bone to move, the sound of the grinding making him nauseous. Merlin let out a heartrending scream, the useless stick Arthur had put in his mouth immediately falling out._

_ Shaking and heart hammering in his ears, Arthur was almost in tears as his friend writhed on the floor of the cave, but once the leg had been finally been moved back into place, Merlin had passed out from the pain. Even in the dark, Arthur could make out the droplets of sweat rolling down his servant's face, soaking his hair and plastering it to his colorless face._

_Arthur took a moment to breathe. He swore and tried to force himself to stop trembling - he still had another leg to set. Blessedly, Merlin remained unconscious as Arthur set his other leg and he stayed that way while he left the cave briefly and returned with several fallen tree branches he had collected to construct some splints._

_Working slowly and through his own pain and stiffness, Arthur cut strips of cloth with his dagger from Merlin's already torn pant legs and used those to tie the splints into place. His work was rudimentary at best, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances. _

_It wasn't long after that that Merlin awoke again, more alert than he had been before and they discussed the need for Arthur to leave and seek help. Arthur tried to make sure that Merlin would at least have some warmth by building a fire for him and he collected water from a nearby stream so he could leave him with as much water as he could. _

_Promising to return as soon as possible and leaving Merlin behind in the cave had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. It felt like they were saying goodbye for good but neither one of them was brave enough to say it out loud._

_Before he left, Merlin told him to be careful and had given the prince one of his 'I'm fine, but really not' grins. In his eyes, Arthur saw fear and worry, but more prominently, he saw such complete and utter trust and confidence in Arthur that the prince couldn't do anything but turn away, cover the cave with some foliage, and start running as fast as his battered body would allow._

It was that last look Merlin gave him as he exited the cave that really haunted him now as he returned more than three days later. He had abandoned Merlin for so long – would he feel as if he had been forgotten or that Arthur hadn't cared enough to come back for him, that his trust in Arthur been misplaced? Even worse was the possibility that Merlin had succumbed to either his injuries or the elements – cold, alone, and scared. That thought was too much for Arthur to bear and he quickly pushed it aside as he lead Gaius towards the cave entrance, pushing aside the branches and brush he had used to hide the opening.

Bending down, Arthur crawled inside. He sucked in a sharp breath seeing Merlin lying there on the floor of the cave just as he had left him, eyes closed, deathly pale and still as a corpse.

**To Be Continued ...**

**Just kidding, next chapter is up! ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Sorry about being so cruel with the last chapter's cliffy, so here is the last chapter a little earlier than I anticipated. I hope this makes up for it a little.**_

_**I'd also like to thank you for reading and supporting this, you all rock! :)**_

**-O-O-O- Part Four -O-O-O-**

When he was awake, Merlin's stomach was in a heated competition with his head and legs for which body part could give him the most grief. He hadn't eaten since … well … he couldn't really remember and his gut was very loud and vocal about its disuse. He'd give anything for a nice juicy cut of venison or even one of Gaius' virtually unpalatable bowls of porridge – anything to ease his hunger pangs.

A drink of water would be great too … oh yes … he really, really wanted some water. Maybe his head wouldn't hurt so much if he could only have a drop or two to wet his mouth.

He knew it was coming close to do or die time and if Arthur didn't return soon, he was going to have to take measures into his own hands and find a way to get some water. He still couldn't think straight and since that made his magic act wonky, he would have to find a way out of the cave without it. There had to be a stream nearby since Arthur had to have filled the waterskin from somewhere before he left, he just hoped it wouldn't be too far since he would have to crawl there.

But he was so tired and he hadn't even moved yet. How was he supposed to find the strength to move let alone pull himself across the forest floor? And then there was the pain factor. If he could only remember the words to the numbing spell from his book, he had only practiced it once and his brain was too scrambled to recall them all.

Merlin groaned, realizing just how useless the supposedly mighty Emrys was at saving himself. So much for being the world's greatest warlock … he couldn't even magic himself a drink of water.

His stomach gave another empty rumble and his thoughts about water and how to go about getting to it only made him that much thirstier. He closed his eyes, too tired to think anymore. Arthur would be back; he had promised and though the prince was often a giant pain in the rump, he always kept his word. Merlin just needed to be a little more patient.

Tired and exhausted from all of the nothing he was doing, Merlin started drift off and was soon carried away along the currents of his imagination.

_Merlin was seated at a great round table with a feast set out before him and his mouth watered the sight of the multitude of meats, breads, and desserts. Knights, lords, ladies, and common folk alike shared in the company of their king and joyous laughter and voices rang out, echoing within vast hall. Gaius sat near him smiling proudly whilst Gwen, dressed regally in purple silk and a jeweled tiara looked up at Arthur in adoration. With a golden, dazzling crown circling his head and dressed in his finest clothes, Arthur raised a goblet and then toasted to everyone's health. Turning to Merlin with a knowing nod and warm smile before he drank, he gestured for the young man to take up his own cup. "Drink up, Merlin!"_

_Merlin smiled back and upended his goblet. The cool liquid touched his tongue and he savored it appreciatively as it slid down his throat and warmed him from the inside. It was the most wonderful thing he thought he had ever tasted and he drank some more, practically guzzling it without any thought to manners. Across the table Gwaine and some of the other knights cheered while Arthur looked at him rather aghast._

_"Slow down, Merlin." Arthur admonished, "You're going to –"_

_Merlin should have listened as he started to choke on his drink. Sputtering and coughing, it spilled down the front of his shirt. He couldn't draw in a breath and it felt like he was drowning._

_One by one the knights vanished, as did Gwen and the festive feast. The banquet hall went dark and the walls and ceiling turned to stone, coming in closer, almost on top of him. Arthur's face blurred as his crown and formal attire disappeared._

Merlin realized then that he was no longer standing, but was lying on the cold, rocky ground, surrounded by darkness as he continued to choke and cough harshly, pain stabbing him in the head under the strain.

"Slowly, Merlin …" someone spoke. "Take it easy. Just breathe."

He coughed a few more times until he had finally cleared his throat enough to breathe easily. His head fell back down onto the ground, but a gentle hand behind it cushioned it from the rock. He didn't even realize his eyes were still closed until he peeled them open and looked about in confusion and saw the company that was suddenly beside him. Arthur and Gaius were looking down on him with concerned faces, but relieved faces. Merlin's focus centered on the waterskin Arthur was holding and his thirst overrode his confusion.

"More?" He asked, voice horse and throat sore from coughing.

Arthur looked at Gaius as if asking for permission.

Gaius nodded. "Alright … just a little bit more for now. Don't want you choking on it again."

It must have been Arthur's hand under his head for he helped Merlin raise it again and lifted the water up to his lips. Merlin drank greedily and soon, to his disappointment, the water was taken away.

"That's enough for the moment, Merlin. I know you must still be thirsty, but if you drink too much at once you'll upset your stomach and it will all just come back up." Gaius stated, patting his shoulder fondly.

It was that touch from his mentor that truly woke Merlin and snapped him back into full alertness. Arthur and Gaius were here! He was so relieved, happy, and gobsmacked to see them in the flesh that he wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry.

So he did both.

"You're here …" He sobbed while giggling. Arthur and Gaius probably thought he was losing his grip on sanity as tears dripped down his face, but he just didn't care.

"Yes, Merlin." Arthur reassured him, his hand still cupping the back of his head gently as he smiled, "I promised I would be back, didn't I?"

"Took you long enough." He lobbed back at Arthur weakly, smiling as his tears dried up.

"Everything okay in there?" Merlin turned at the sound of the voice coming from just outside the cave entrance and saw Gwaine's face peeking inside anxiously. The tiny cave was barely large enough for the three people already inside and clearly the roguish knight was unhappy about being left outside.

Merlin gave his friend a small wave to let him know he was okay. Gwaine smiled broadly, relieved. "Thank goodness, Mate! For a second there I was worried that you wouldn't be awake enough to remember those drinks you owe me."

"Since when do I owe you?" Merlin questioned.

"Since you went and made me worry about you, that's when. I think I'll need at least three or four pints of ale before nerves are back to normal."

"Only your nerves would function normally with three or four pints of ale, Gwaine." Arthur quipped, pretending to be irritated with Merlin and the knight's exchange. "Let's save the discussion about getting sloshed for after we get back to Camelot, shall we?"

"Camelot … That sounds really good." Merlin sighed wistfully, closing his eyes and thinking about the warm bed, food, and pain tonics waiting for him there. "I think I'm ready to go home now."

**-O-O-O-**

Arthur stood by his window, gazing down sightlessly at the courtyard below. His thoughts should have been on the tax resolutions and trade agreements sitting on his desk, but instead, his mind was wandering over to his servant once again.

It was profoundly silent in his room. Already, he knew that the next few weeks were going to be extremely boring. There was no bubbly, goofy, stumbling Merlin to fill the chambers and it felt empty without him. Sometimes Merlin could be annoying and irritating, especially first thing in the morning when he woke him up with far more cheerfulness than was called for at such early hours. But Arthur found himself actually missing even those abrupt, rude wake-ups. He missed his constant rambling and the volleys of insults and barbs they exchanged frequently during the day. Merlin was like Arthur's shadow, always following him around and not having him by his side left him with an odd, vacant feeling.

Three days had passed since he, Gaius and Gwaine brought Merlin back to Camelot. Gaius had explained that he needed several days' worth of rest without visitors and Arthur hadn't seen him since getting him settled within the physician's chambers. Gaius had praised his efforts to treat Merlin and said that he was probably the main reason that his servant would walk again and while his legs would take weeks to heal, he should be back on his feet and serving the prince once again.

Arthur was grateful for that news, but had found waiting to see Merlin again to be a constant distraction. He really hadn't a chance to talk to Merlin since he left him in the old physician's care, but Gaius had finally informed him that morning that his ward was well enough to start seeing visitors. He knew Gwaine, Gwen and most of the knights had already been by to see him, yet Arthur had hesitated in making the trip to Merlin's bedside just yet. He just wasn't sure what he was going to say to Merlin when he saw him, but when he did, he wanted a little privacy so he could speak candidly with him and explain himself without an audience.

There was a lot for Arthur and Merlin to discuss and he knew that he couldn't put it off for much longer. For three days, Merlin had languished within that cave. How was Arthur ever going to apologize for taking so long to come back for him? Whilst he knew intellectually that he hadn't abandoned Merlin for so long on purpose, would Merlin see it that way? Sure … during one of his more lucid times on the journey back to Camelot from the cave, he had told Arthur that he never doubted that the prince would return, but Arthur couldn't help but wonder if that was the truth. If he had been in Merlin's place, he probably would have felt as if the world had forgotten him. So, was Merlin's apparent forgiveness true or was it just something he told Arthur in order to placate the royal?

Arthur knew he would never find out if he didn't physically go down to the physician's chambers and talk with his servant and yet, he was reluctant to go; worried that Merlin had had time to think over his ordeal and had decided to rescind his words of forgiveness.

He and Merlin had an odd friendship to say the least, but Arthur valued it above any other that he had had before. He had come to realize in just the span of a week how much he didn't want to lose it. Of course, he would never say any of this outright to Merlin; he was a prince after all and saving face and protecting his image was almost as important as defending his kingdom. Yet still, he needed to do this right and find a way to

At last, Arthur decided that it was time to go and speak with Merlin and he left his rooms. He navigated the halls of the castle with little conscious thought, but as he approached the door to the physician's quarters he once again ran into some resistance. He told himself to quit being such a baby – he was prince and regent and shouldn't feel such reluctance to speak with any of his subjects, much less his own manservant.

Squaring his shoulders, Arthur knocked on the door.

"Come in." Gaius called from the other side of the door. As Arthur entered, the older man gave the prince a polite greeting, but his one raised eyebrow spoke louder, as if to say 'it's about time'.

"How' Merlin?" Arthur asked.

"He's doing well, considering." Gaius turned towards the steps leading up to Merlin's room. "He was awake last time I checked on him, Sire."

"Is he up for seeing another visitor?"

Gaius nodded, "He's been asking about you."

"Good." Arthur said, trying not to sound as awkward as he felt as he climbed the stairs to Merlin's room. He stopped almost immediately as a powerful stench hit him. He plugged his nose as Merlin looked up from a book he was reading and laughed at him.

Merlin looked much improved since the last time he saw him. He had a little color to his cheeks and his face was no longer sunken in from dehydration and exposure. He also had several pillows behind his back, propping his up whilst a few more pillows at his feet kept his legs elevated. Merlin's legs were tightly bound and supported by much sturdier splints than the ones Arthur had improvised for him in the cave. Smeared over the linen wrappings and soaking through them was a slightly greenish paste that Arthur suspected was the source of the foul aroma.

"Ahhh – what_ is_ that smell?" Arthur asked.

"Sorry about that. Gaius used comfrey over the bindings, it's supposed to harden like clay when it dries and help the bones heal, but it's taking forever. It smells like a dung heap, but you get used to it after a while."

Arthur wasn't too sure about ever getting used to that smell, but he made an effort to ignore it as he unplugged his nose and sat down in the chair next to his bed. Arthur spied a pitcher of wild flowers sitting on the bedside table where Merlin placed his book and he grinned, knowing that Gwen must have brought those. He imagined that she was also the one that fluffed all of those pillows surrounding him and tidied his room since it was far cleaner than he ever recalled.

Also, he had never known either Gaius or Merlin to own so many pillows, but he wouldn't have been surprised if Gwaine, Lancelot and the other knights hadn't given them the cushions from their own beds in order to make the young, injured man more comfortable. The love of Merlin's friends showed through all of those little touches around the room and Arthur felt a little bit like the clot-pole his servant often accused him of being. Sure, he wasn't about to pick flowers for his servant, but he could have at least thought of bringing him something to make his recovery easier. What could bring, however, he didn't know.

"So …" Arthur began somewhat awkwardly, unsure of where to start.

"So …" Merlin replied as well, rubbing the back of his neck as though he too were feeling somewhat nervous.

"Um … are you comfortable enough?" Arthur probed.

Merlin nodded, and smiled, gesturing at all of the pillows. "I think you can guess the answer to that question. I feel like I'm lying on a cloud."

It was Arthur turn to grin as he felt some of the tension melt, "Let me guess. The pillows are Gwaine's doing, aren't they?"

"Got it in one." Merlin confirmed, "I'm definitely going to have to owe him those drinks now."

"How are feeling otherwise?" Arthur asked.

"A little sore, but fine. What about you?"

"Okay."

There was silence again for a few moments and Arthur again felt uneasy. There were things he needed to get off his chest, but saying them out loud was proving to be harder than he thought they would be. Being royalty meant he never had to say he was sorry, especially to someone who was supposed to be in service to him, but he wouldn't feel any better if he didn't.

"Merlin … I just wanted to say that I'm sor–"

"Don't." Merlin cut him off, his grin long gone, replaced with a serious expression, "Don't say you're sorry, Arthur. You took care of me and kept me safe. Then you ran more than ten miles all the way back to Camelot, injured and bleeding. Gaius told me how you collapsed as soon as you made it to the gates, so how can you blame yourself for that?"

Arthur looked at down at his lap where he rested his clenched fists, his knuckles whitening. "That's no excuse, Merlin. You were out there alone for _days_. You must have thought I had abandoned you."

Merlin shook his head, "Nah … I knew you would come back and you did. That's all that really matters. The only thing you should be sorry about is for being so stupid about pushing so hard that you injured yourself worse. If you had managed to kill yourself trying to help me, then _that_, I would have a hard time forgiving you for."

Arthur looked up and met his servant's sincere gaze, seeing no sign of blame. Swallowing, and forcing the stinging in his eyes to abate, Arthur let his hands relax as the tension in his body was released and the weight that had been oppressing him disappeared.

Sighing, Merlin leaned back into his pillows then pulled a slightly pained expression when he moved a little too much.

"You okay?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah … just bored to death." Merlin complained. "I'm stuck here for the next six weeks at least. I think I'm going to go completely bonkers well before then. I think I'd rather clean out the stables and wash your smelly, dirty underwear than sit around doing nothing." He lamented with a pout.

"Hey … my underwear does not stink!" Arthur shot back, poking his servant in the shoulder.

Merlin just pursed his lips, trying to hold back a grin, "Oh no … of course not, Sire. No royal arse, no matter how sweaty after a day of training in full armour, could ever stink."

Giving back as good as Merlin dished out, Arthur pointed to the foul paste coating his legs and came back with a, "It's not like you're smelling all that rosy right now either."

Merlin laughed, "Okay … I'll give you that. But look on the bright side, sire. You get to leave this room, while I, on the other hand, am stuck here with my stinky legs for weeks. You should show a little sympathy."

Though he tried not to show it, Arthur truly did sympathize with Merlin. He could completely understand his restlessness. As an active, young man he had been sidelined by injury before and lying around waiting to heal was never entertaining. It was about as much fun as doing paperwork …

And that's when Arthur came up with what he thought an ingenious plan to not only give him an excuse to visit his servant on a regular basis, but also help alleviate Merlin's boredom (and some of his own as well).

"Alright … I suppose that if you're bored, then I'll just have to put you to work."

Merlin looked at him as if Arthur was the idiot now. "How? I can't exactly go anywhere."

"You don't need to. Your head and hands still work, don't they?" Posited Arthur with a sly bit of cheekiness, "Though, I wonder if your head ever worked in the first place."

"What are you suggesting?" Merlin asked, a little warily.

"Well … I still have tons of work that needs to be done. As regent, I hardly have time to train with the knights as often as I would like because of all of the letters, missives, speeches, and other papers I have to go over. I'm afraid my battle skills will get rusty, so it would help if I had someone who can read and write to help me out with it all the everyday administration stuff."

"You want me to do your paperwork?"

"Just the simple things …" Arthur shrugged, "like replying to letters, signing off on supplies, or writing speeches…"

"Writing speeches?"

"Yeah … easy stuff."

"The last time I wrote a speech for you it took me all night. It's hardly what I would call 'easy'."

"Good. Then you certainly won't be bored, now will you? I'll just come by every morning and drop off whatever work I need you to complete and then pick it up in the evening."

Merlin looked like he wished he hadn't opened his big mouth and complained about having nothing to do. The prince laughed. Though his manservant was already grumbling even before Arthur had given him any assignments, he could sense Merlin's gratitude at being given what he needed most: a reason to get better as soon as possible.

**The End**

**Thanks so much for reading!**


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